


Vice Is a Taste That Lingers Long

by The_Winter_Straw



Series: Straw's Super-Amazing Fantastic Quarantine Request Booklet Extravaganza [2]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, POV Second Person, Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Reader is a member of the Guardians of the Galaxy, Reader-Insert, Sexual Humor, Slap Slap Kiss, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Winter_Straw/pseuds/The_Winter_Straw
Summary: "Friends with benefits" isn't much of a benefit at all when it comes to sleeping with your captain on the regular.
Relationships: Peter Quill/Reader
Series: Straw's Super-Amazing Fantastic Quarantine Request Booklet Extravaganza [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748251
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Vice Is a Taste That Lingers Long

**Author's Note:**

> First request made by Adikstar on DeviantArt. I would like to add that I actually _adore_ Mantis, so please don't mistake the way she is treated here for me mistreating a character I dislike. 
> 
> **Prompt:** "I love how our arguments stop when we fall asleep."

No lights were scheduled to hum to life at the break of each new day onboard the _Milano_. By orders of the ship's captain, no system was to remind the crew of their natural sleep cycle, no matter if the ship was in orbit or docked somewhere on land. _Some_ of your number found this frustrating. Most of them did not. Since you all _had_ no natural sleep cycle anymore, what was the point in getting up at the ass crack of dawn when you didn't have to? It only became a problem when your brain decided to switch itself on all at once before anyone else could bother rousing. 

You still felt exhausted as you pushed yourself up from the old, lumpy mattress you'd fallen asleep on—and no wonder you were so tired. Shifting out from underneath the sheets caused you to realize you were naked. What little sleep you'd managed had come _after_ a round of rigorous activity. _Again_. 

A surge of frustration forced you to your feet. Though the room remained black as pitch, you were enough used to your circumstances to pick out which pile of clothes on the floor belonged to you. Without bothering to confirm just who you'd shared a bed with that night, you yanked on your panties, stuffed your shirt on over your head, and left the room in furious silence. 

The automatic lights flashed on above your head as you marched down the hall. All of the others had seen you in various states of undress already (or completely undressed in the case of Drax), so you weren't worried about what any of them would think if they came across you in your present condition. What you _did_ worry about was them taking in this present condition and realizing just how quickly you'd gone back on your word _this_ time. 

Lucky for you, everyone seemed to still be in bed. Well, Groot and Rocket had been so shitfaced when you'd parted ways with them the night before that _their_ absence was no surprise. Gamora was probably busy doing chin-ups somewhere; Drax hardly ever crawled out of bed before someone else made food. Not to mention all that screaming and shouting had probably kept everyone _else_ up until the wee hours of the morning, too. This meant that you'd made it all the way to the kitchen without attracting anyone's attention— 

"Good morning!" said a bright voice. 

You had forgotten about Mantis. _Everyone_ forgot about Mantis. Only now that you had found her sitting at the kitchen table, alone, with no sign of food or drink anywhere near her, did you remember that _she_ usually got up early, too. Why remained a mystery—but even if no one else woke up in time for breakfast, she always showed up like this anyway. Hopefully she wouldn't take note of your lack of pants...but the way her black eyes remained fixed so unblinkingly from your face made it clear she was putting every fiber of her being into not staring instead at your bare legs. 

All hope gone, you slid into the seat across from her and pressed your face into your arms. "I don't see what's so good about it," you groaned. 

"Well, we aren't being shot at for once. I think that's a pretty good start to any day." 

This dignified such little response that you didn't bother making one at all. Why hadn't you just gone back to your room and hid there for the rest of the day? Oh, that was right: Because your room didn't have a coffee pot. Too bad you didn't have the mental strength to get back to your feet now that you'd collapsed. 

"Are you okay?" Mantis asked. "I sense great...I'm not sure what I sense. You are mad?" 

You nodded without lifting your head. 

"But I do not understand. You just had sex. Sex is supposed to—" 

"Whatever Drax has told you about sex, don't listen to him. Or Peter's dad. Just—let's not talk about it anymore, okay?" 

"Okay. What would you like to talk about instead?" 

"Nothing." 

"If that is what you would prefer." 

She didn't have to stick around. Mantis could have left whenever she wanted. Apparently you were to be the day's entertainment, because she made no move whatsoever to go find someone else to talk to. You could just imagine her little antenna wobbling around her wide forehead, lit up, dancing, as she watched you mope. Finally, you could take the silence no longer. 

"Why are you still here?" you asked as you lifted your head. 

Of course, Mantis looked _exactly_ the way you'd seen her in your head. This was not a comfort to you at all. The fingers inching across the tabletop toward your bare arm were not either. You lurched out of your chair before she could touch you and pump calming juice directly into your veins, or however it was her powers worked. Then you stomped over to the cabinet above the sink, wrenched out the bag of coffee filters and what you _hoped_ was a clean mug, and set to work filling the machine with water. 

"You don't have to hang around and watch me be pathetic," you said loudly. 

"Oh, but I _want_ to," she assured you. "Isn't that what friends do? Assist the others in being pathetic?" 

Shame trickled hot down your spine as you stared blindly into the percolating coffeemaker sitting on the counter below you. Mantis was only trying to look after you in her own way—even if her way was bumbling and bordering on creepy. It wasn't _her_ fault she still didn't have a clue about how _real_ beings behaved. Whatever it was she wanted to do to assist you, it was sure to be a better offer than you'd get the next time you ran into Rocket on board, too. 

"I don't deserve any assistance," you said. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I'm _too_ pathetic. I don't need any help to be _more_ pathetic." 

"I still do not understand." 

"I _know_ I'm being an idiot, okay? Peter's just...what is it about that guy? He'll sleep with anything with two legs and a vagina—hell, he's probably tried a few things without either one. It's no big secret, right? And every single time he gets with another girl, I swear I'm done with him. I swear it to myself, and I swear it to all of you. Then he comes back, and we argue, and I..." 

"Immediately jump his boner?" Mantis suggested helpfully. 

You sighed. "Yeah. That. Who am I kidding, Mantis? He only likes me for the hate sex." 

"Is there anything I could do to help you?" 

"Kill me before Rocket and Groot find out I did the exact same thing again last night?" 

"Well, I'm not so sure about that. Drax says I'm terrible at murder, but if you really want me to try—" 

"How about you just make sure I don't go anywhere near Peter for the time being?" This had to be said quickly, before Mantis got some grand idea about _really_ killing you in that otherwise vacant head of hers. "You can sense him coming, right? So let me know when he's headed this way." 

"Oh! Yes, I am perfectly capable of doing that for you. He's been here since you turned around to turn on the coffee machine!" 

" _What_?" 

You spun around on your heel so fast it made you dizzy. Too bad the motion didn't make you dizzy enough to _not_ see that, yes, Peter _was_ in the room. He was leaning on the wall right next to the closed door. Pulling on a pair of boxers was all the prep he seemed to think was necessary for talking to you again. No brush seemed to have touched his hair, nor had he put any effort into hiding the hickies shining vividly red against the skin of his neck. Worst of all had to be his expression: the widest shit-eating grin you'd seen on his face to date—and you'd seen Peter wear _a lot_ of shit eating grins. 

"You gotta admit, the hate sex _is_ pretty great,” he said. 

The entire room went red around you. "Get! Out!" 

"Don't be like that. Mantis can watch if she really wants to. Might be good for her to see what sex is really like." 

There was no other recourse to this statement than to hurl your empty coffee mug straight at his enormous head. Unfortunately, Peter ducked in time to avoid having his pretty face smashed in. Your mug crashed instead against the wall, showering the floor and part of Mantis' head with glass. She didn't even blink. 

"Jesus!" Peter exclaimed in the aftermath. "What was that for?" 

"I said get out! I never want to see your piece of shit face ever again!" 

"That's not what you said last night. Or the night before that. Or the night before that." 

Since you were now out of ammo, all you could do was shriek. 

"Now, _that_ is something you said last night." 

"I hate you! I have never hated anyone more than I hate you right now!" 

He'd been working his slow way toward you as you screamed—probably trying to avoid having the entire full coffee pot tossed somewhere a little more important than his skull. By the time you finished declaring your hatred for him, Peter had made it close enough to place his hands on either side of your hips. You lifted a hand to slap him, but before you could, he planted a sloppy kiss right on your mouth. At once your body melted against his. The hand shifted to cup Peter's face. His stubble rasped against your palm and your lips—which went a long way to snap you out of the spell of what Gamora would call Peter's "pelvic sorcery." You screwed up every ounce of self-control remaining to you and shoved him away. 

"No!" you said. 

He stared at you incredulously. "No?" 

"No!" To emphasize your point, you dragged your forearm over the place the two of you had just a few seconds ago been connected. A tiny gasp issued from where Mantis remained seated at the table, but you ignored her horror. "I am _not_ your bridge bunny. You can't just sleep with whoever or whatever you want and expect me to still fall into your arms at the snap of your fingers." 

"But...but that's what you do!" 

"Not anymore. You think you can just get me all hot bothered and that's going to fix everything?" 

"Oh, so, what?" Peter pressed his fingers to his chest. "It's _my_ fault all of a sudden that you're so damn sexy when you're angry?" 

"No, but what _is_ your fault is that you always take advantage of me. You know what starting a fight with me does." 

"I have never _once_ slept with you without your explicit consent!" 

"Because you know how to get it!" It was happening all over again, right then, right in the middle of the kitchen with Mantis looking on. You could _feel_ your body reacting to your argument with Peter. To prevent yourself from throwing yourself at him, you had to grip the counter behind you with all your might. "I am not your plaything, Peter. If you want to sleep with Gamora or Mantis or whoever—" 

"Mantis? You think I want to sleep with _Mantis_?" 

"You think that I would let him touch me?" Mantis asked. 

The two of them looked each other up and down, then turned away with delicate shudders. 

"The point is that I don't care _who_ you sleep with anymore," you said through gritted teeth. "You could start screwing Drax for all I care." 

"That's almost as bad as suggesting that I'd screw Mantis!" Peter protested. 

"Well, if you still want convenient sex at the drop of a hat, then you're going to have to settle for someone fast." 

"I'm sorry, are you breaking up with me?" 

"No, because breaking up with you would imply we had a relationship—which we did not. All we had was a lot of sex, and since I don't want to have sex with you anymore, there is nothing left between us." 

Gone was that self-satisfied smirk. The expression on Peter's face now indicated you might as well have succeeded in slapping him earlier. It gave you some very small gratification to see that your rebellion had upset him. After taking this in for a moment longer, you squeezed yourself around him. 

"Sorry to push this jackass on you, Mantis," you said as you passed her on your way to the door. 

"Wait!" 

Something about Peter's tone actually managed to give you pause. Against your better judgement, you turned away from the exit and back to him for one last time. He ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, mussing it still further. There came that feeling again. This time you didn't have a counter to keep you in place—only your will, which was rapidly depleting. 

"Don't just—I didn't know this was how you felt, okay?" Peter said. 

"I think I made my feelings on you sleeping around clear enough while you were—" 

"I thought that was all an act," he said over you. Apparently he wasn't as blasé about Mantis knowing the intimate details of his sex life as he wanted to appear. "I thought you were, you know, _pretending_ to be all pissed off. For the sex." 

You gaped at him. "What kind of weird role play stuff were _you_ into before we met?" 

"That's not the—look, if I had known you were really mad about those other women...I mean, you always _stopped_ fighting with me after the fact." 

"Because you're real damn good at exhausting me," you said, too exasperated to think how that would sound before you said it. 

A familiar gleam entered Peter's warm green eyes. You'd already given him far too much ground, and he knew it. Slowly, he approached you again. You lacked any ammunition this time around. That, coupled with the fact that you did not start lashing out at him physically at once, seemed to give him enough courage to draw near enough to grasp your shoulders in his hands. 

"I didn't know you wanted to be exclusive," he said pleadingly. "If I had, I _might_ have tried a little harder to do that for you. Maybe. And, I mean, I lied about _most_ of those girls just to get you riled up." 

"He means he lied about all of them," Mantis put in. 

Peter shot her a look of amazed bewilderment while you tried to process all this new information. 

"No, not _all_ of them," he said. 

"Yes, _all_ of them. I can feel your shame all the way from over here." 

He cast his eyes heavenward before returning his attention to you. "Give me one more chance. _Please_ don't make me shack up with her." 

"I agree. Please do not make him shack up with me. I am not even slightly interested," Mantis said. 

If there was one thing that Peter wasn't, it was earnest—ever. Truthfully, that was part of his charm. He looked earnest then as his thumbs rubbed tiny circles in your skin. Mantis looked pretty earnest, too, for that matter. How many times had you seen _him_ look that way before? Admittedly not many, and never regarding _your_ feelings. If what both of them said was true... 

"I just know I'm going to regret this in a couple of hours," you sighed. 

A triumphant kiss was pressed to your mouth. One of Peter's hands slid down your arm to grasp one of your hands, too. 

"Mantis," he said, "you might want to hightail it out of here after all." 

"I am not having sex with you here in the kitchen," you said before Mantis could make a break for the hall. 

Peter's face fell. "But I thought we ought to give this not arguing sex a chance right away!" 

"We can. In _your_ quarters. Come on, Star-Lord." 

He was all too delighted to let you lead him back out into the corridor. "Excellent. But do you really think we can get through an entire round of sex without fighting?" 

"No, actually, I don't." 

"Well, I do." 

"That's because you're an idiot." 

" _I'm_ the idiot? _You_ were about to break up with the best thing that's ever happened to you!" 

"I would never break up with the grenade launcher Rocket made me." 

Some things never changed—your relationship with Peter would be one of them. At least now you knew he wasn't _really_ sleeping around behind your back...well, most of the time. And learning the truth about all those fights did give you one benefit: Now that you knew he only said things about other women to get a rise out of you, he had to come up with _new_ ways to get under your skin. Your sex life had never been better, and, really, your love life had never been either.


End file.
